


Shared Pain is half of the Pain

by SugerCat



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: American Horror Story References, Body Horror, Drama & Romance, Friends to Lovers, Horror, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 21:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11655396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugerCat/pseuds/SugerCat
Summary: Sherlock made a decision without his twinbrother which should make his life easier but fate wasn't really on his side. But he should be glad other persons are.(Inspired by American Horror Story season 4 but you don't have to watch that to read this story here)





	Shared Pain is half of the Pain

Why was it slowly getting so hard to breath air? This couldn't be a part of the procedure. Unfortunately, he doesn't know about such details in operations. Should he have read more? Maybe. But time ran away. It was only one thing he wanted. It couldn't be too much, or was it too selfish?

The lady who should to assist the doctor suddenly disappeared from the room. Even the man who had to do the thing here was no longer to be seen. Although a bright light beamed at him, he could recognize some of his surroundings.

"Who do we have here?" A stranger, wearing a white coat, grinned suddenly down at him.

"I've been looking for you so long, and you might think it's not that hard to find something like that." Apparently the man knew him, but he couldn't remember who that person was. He rarely forgot about faces. Exactly a man, with a scar across the right eye, wouldn't have escaped from his head.

The chest began to ache that the thinking got even more difficult.

"Have you read about the exhibition, which you can admire on the edge of the city?" The cold sweat broke out on him. Than he had seen the article in the paper. The whims of the nature were displayed there. But he decided not to be such a person anymore. This operation served to lead a normal life.

_It is very likely that one of us will die._

Why did this realization hit him so hard now that he lay here with this body? The doctor had explained to him how he would proceed. But the stranger before him had something quite different in mind.

No, it wasn't just about him. If it were this way, he might be able to endure his fate. But his brother had not done anything wrong. All this time, this wanted to help him, since they had no more family. Surely there were still relatives somewhere, but these would certainly also want that they serve somewhere as an exhibit. Or even worse, they should be locked up somewhere for the rest of their lives.

_If that's what you really want._

And these were the last words of his twin brother before he fell asleep because he got a mask from the doctor. Why did the gas not work with him? Than he also carried such a thing.

As he turned his head a little, he noticed why the nurse had disappeared before, because she lay motionless on the ground in a corner of the room. Her blond hair was soaked with her blood, that slowly spread like a puddle on the floor. This wasn't fair from the guy who was looking at the cutting tools now.

He felt a single tear that ran down his left cheek. How foolish of him. Finally, it was his fault that they were both here. But their older brother Mycroft, had long predicted this. This, too, had always been a pain in the neck. He always knew everything better when it was about them, the ignorant brothers.

When the news reached them two months ago that the elderly had suddenly died of an illness abroad, they knew exactly, this was a lie.

His twin brother and he were always very clever and had helped the police in cases before, by sending anonymous letters to them. Their parents were always against it, because they don't want them to get in trouble. Unfortunately they too died too early.

Their father couldn't survive the war and their mother was born with a weak heart. Ever since then, Mycroft had been taking care of both of them, but now he was no longer here to talk them out of things.

_I just want to protect you two. People out there can be cruel._

And their older brother wasn't quite wrong with that. Almost everyone who saw them took a distance. For their mother, they were always something special. That they were both a burden to their family, perhaps came to their minds too late.

_Sherlock, who will be there for you when I'm gone?_

Late. Too late, he now saw that he would be all alone. Even if the doctor from before had been there and he survived the operation that would separate him from his brother Sherrinford, he would have to be alone in this world.

_Do you think he will receive you with open arms?! You know exactly why he is interested in us._

Since their 32nd birthday, their family hired a doctor for both of them. Getting to know new people was never easy. Especially for Sherlock it was hard and he usually left the talk to his brother. But the man who came to them that day made him almost forget his views about all people. His name was Dr. John Watson. This had long been the first person who wasn't looking at them like they were freaks. They found out that the man also served in the war. For Sherlock, this was by no means a reason to be too kind. He expected that the doctor simply left again after the usual examinations. But that wasn't happening, than he remained on the first day for tea and then it began. While Dr. Watson spoke to his brother, he noticed now and then that his eyes were pointed at him. When he put away his book because of the hot drink, their eyes crossed briefly. But he himself doesn't dare to glance for too long and reached for his cup.

From that day on, the doctor went to see them. He appeared only once a week, but after a month, Sherlock began to look forward to these visits. But this was nonsensical. They seldom talked to each other, but it seemed as if the older man always wanted to talk to him. Not with his twins brother Sherrinford, but really with him. Everything the doctor wanted to know about their existence, he could have learned from everyone else.

When he first brought a book to him, he doesn't know how to react to it exactly. Dr. Watson explained that he had this edition twice at his home and so brought it with him. Nervous with joy that he got some gift and that of this man, made his tongue a little loose. Only that he said the wrong things. No thank you or other things in that direction. No, he pointed the guest directly to the lie. Their mother always warned him that some people don't like it, and perhaps lie out of politeness. But where was it polite to say that one had a book twice at home as to admit that this piece had been just bought?

Only much later, after the man had left, his twin brother said that the doctor doesn't wanted to embarrass them. Which in turn wasn't an explanation for the behavior. When the word 'wooing' fell, Sherlock would have almost shoved over a vase from their mother. Than it was totally absurd that the doctor had such an interest in him. Besides, the good man was married.

Strangely, Sherlock's heart also hurt. Not because he never confessed to John Watson that he might have feelings for him, but because he wanted someone better to join the man's side.  
Although he met Mrs. Watson only once, it was enough to recognize all the terrible things she was doing behind her husband's back. She is used to a certain lifestyle and sure did everything for it. A blonde and beautiful woman like her, was considered very attractive in their area. Otherwise, he couldn't explain how she managed to rob so many people or even to kill for the money. Of course, she thought of everything and so no one was missing, because the neighborhood just thought the people had moved or died of illness. It annoyed Sherlock that it seemed only important to him what that rogue did in town. He even doubted Mary was her real name.

But he never brought it over his heart to break that one of Dr. Watson. Everyone could see that he loved his wife. Nobody was ever perfect, and he would be a monster, as they would sometimes be scolded if he would destroy a happy marriage. Even though it was partly only appearance.

Now Dr. Watson traveled with his wife somewhere abroad. That's why he thought it would be smart to use the moment for this operation.

It was so foolish of him to believe that the medicine was so far as to separate two people who had been together since birth. Two heads who wanted to go in different directions. With only two arms and legs, it was difficult to fulfill this desire. They also had two hearts.

In his opinion, other organs had to be duplicated too, but Mycroft never wanted them to deal with it. Probably also because he never wanted to bring them to a specialist, who then showed them around as a rare exhibition piece. Certainly also, so that he no longer learned about separation operations.

Was Dr. Watson hired by her family because of this? Should this even distract him from this dream, once a life of his own? Were all the words and looks just played?  
Why had he been so blind? Of course the good Dr. Watson was paid from Mycroft for a good theater. And he fell for it like bloody beginner.

_It is nice to be appreciated from the outside._

Blinking, he looked over at his brother, who could no longer hear him. These words were just in his head. To see the other so lifeless on their body seemed so unnatural and also frightened him. One of his worst nightmares seemed to finally become a reality.

"You don't even remember me. How tactless of you? But since you, or rather your end is sealed, I will once again introduce myself." At last the stranger spoke to him again and when he saw the instruments, he felt that it was intentional that his brother was unconscious and he wasn't. This man had to hate him for a reason.

"Sebastian Moran. Well, does it ring with you now?" His eyes widened a bit from shock because the man was sentenced to death for years. Of course, he can't remember this face because he had never seen it before. But his accomplice was still in his head. Jim Moriarty.

This man was very clever and knew what threads he had to pull in people to manifest ideas. Sherlock himself would have appreciated him if he wasn't one of the most wanted serial killers. Of course he found the task of putting these gentlemen in jail, anything but dull. It was true that they had annoyed Mycroft a little back then, but he and his brother came finally out of the house again. And ever since that their older brother never let it happen again.

"Because of you, my boss hanged himself in the cell!" With that, he became a little more alert, probably the gas already works with him, but only so much that he couldn't fight back here.  
On the other hand, he found it strange that Moriarty found death like this. The man wasn't visiting a cell for the first time. He was sure that someone had helped. But someone who had such a life made also many enemies. In addition, his opponent could have helped his 'boss' because he managed to break it out of jail too.

He read the name of Sebastian Moran after the conviction in the newspaper. After that, up to twenty murders could be resolved, as the police found some remains of corpses on Moriarty's property. Sherrinford and he assumed that it was probably far more people who had to die by the hand of this killer. But for them there were always limits as to the investigations. Therefore, his brother persuaded him to be satisfied that Jim Moriarty had come behind bars.

Hastily Moran tore the rest apart of the fabric that was there to cover their upper body. With a pen this marked grinning some spots on their skin. Probably helping signs where he wanted to cut them in two. It was always the wish of his twin brother to take a part in one of these foolish magic shows. Now this desire got fulfilled.

"What do you think? How far should I start? I should have asked at the exhibition what they would like to see. Best only the heads with a larger piece of the upper body. We're going to take the arms away too, because I don't want to carry too much around." The saw he watched now wasn't one of the instruments the real doctor wanted to use. It was definitely a saw that was made for trees. The pips looked dull and a little rust was on them.

"I didn't know if they had such a thing. So I quickly borrowed a saw from someone." The right word here would be probably stolen.

"It just hurts a little bit now." Did the scream really come out of his mouth? Sherlock doesn't know, but he felt the pain in the upper arm clearly. At the same time, he tried to turn his head away as more and more was cut through his flesh. This was done so slowly, because it was to torment him. But Moran pressed his head in the direction of the incident. Through that he also discovered the dead doctor at the door. The exit was of course closed. Since there was no one in the vestibule anyway, because this operation should only be done by a doctor and a nurse, no one will look here.Who would expect a bolter from the prison to run directly to a private hospital to kill people again? Sherlock doesn't because he was just thinking about himself. If he had not demanded such an operation, for which he sold things from the house, these two people, who were now lying dead on the floor, might still be alive.

But how long is this going to be this way? He became a little dizzy. He hoped he would faint and never wake up again.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock whispered, but the other doesn't heard him. This was too much deepened in his work. Nor were the words intended for Moran. His twin brother should hear them, for which they now see such an end.

At least they will come into a glass jar, he thought. He had such in mind like these Dr. Watson had in his practice. In the winter, when they both had a cold, they were allowed to go there.  
Somehow he found it interesting, what could be made durable in a glass. If he was lucky, then the good doctor would visit this exhibition after his trip. Even though he will never know what the man's intentions were, he can at least see him again.

What absurd thoughts went through his head, while his tormentor was beginning to get to his bone.

Suddenly Moran did not move anymore. What was going on? Had he decided for another torture?

But the saw slipped from the man's hand as if he had no control over his body parts. The rusty thing fell to the ground, but he heard nothing. It was only when Moran fell in the front too, that he realized that someone had shot him. He doesn't recognize the wound, but the guy wasn't moving anymore, after he was on the tiles too.

He hurriedly tried to think of something to get away from here. At the exit door was a small window that now had a hole. No matter who had shot through, this person would certainly immediately see if the goal got hit correctly.

No matter what plans he thought, it was pointless. Than firstly, it was almost impossible to move this body without his brother. Secondly, he couldn't even crawl with his arm.

When the door was finally pushed open, he almost cried with joy. Than it was really Dr. Watson who walked in this room. This really looked done and had a fresh wound on the cheek. He wondered at once whether this was an act of Mrs. Watson.

Only when his head was touched with both hands, he noticed that the older one wanted to tell him something. But the doctor spoke so fast and was apparently desperate, but at the same time he doesn't care about the three bodies on the ground. Sherlock and his brother were the only ones to be noticed by the older man.

He wanted to stay awake, but now he felt they were in safe hands. So he finally gave in to the commands of his body and closed his eyes.

The next thing he felt was true pain, but that meant they were still alive. This gas mask and the dull feeling of before, also seemed to have disappeared. The body felt weak, but he still felt that his brother had regained consciousness. Lightened, he breathed deeply in and out. His arm ached horribly. After this event, it will probably still hurt for a long time.

Only then did he notice the rest around him. They were no longer on the cold operating table, but rather in a soft bed. He could safely say that they weren't in any hospital bed. The ground was much too soft. Still, it doesn't seem to be their own bed either in which they were now lying.

"Now open your eyes! Then you would already know where we are." Of course, a near-death experience hasn't made his brother softer in some things. This one always came after their father. What he secretly envied a little.

When he opened his eyes, he forgot all the other thoughts. He had never entered the room with his brother before, but he knew it. At the same time, it made little sense that they were here. They were both in the apartment of Dr. Watson and his wife. This room was above the physician's practice and because they lay both a little raised, he could see the tree outside. Because of this he recognized where they were. This and because everything in the room reminded him of the older man.

“Please spare me. The half of the stuff here has chosen his wife." Sherrinford could sometimes be tactless, or maybe he just wanted to annoy him because he knew about his little love problem. Because he can read his thoughts if he wanted to. Of course, for him that was also the case. They could never really understand this phenomenon because Mycroft had forbidden to do some researches. But they had already mastered it since they could think independently. Apart from their family nobody knew about it. That was also nonsensical to tell someone about it, because the people always saw them in the wrong light anyway.

"As soon as he comes back, don't give him the sheep eyes again." Sherlock looked a little offended away from his brother. As if he had ever dared to bother a married man in this way. It wasn't fair, because the other knew exactly that this infatuation was only one-sided and had to end anyway soon. After all, they should think about how it should go on in their lives.  
Even if he was a little depressed to remove the doctor's visits from now on, it was certainly the best. At some point, something unpleasant could probably happen and then the Doctor would leave them in anger. No, he doesn't want to shame either this wonderful man, nor both of them.

"He's a normal man. You know that, do not you? Well, maybe he has earned the title of Savior in Need, after he dragged us out of this hospital. Maybe the good doctor wants a little special recognition from you." Why did Sherrinford have to annoy him in this situation and make him nervous? At some point, the doctor will surely re-enter this room, and it probably wasn't that good to have certain fantasies in his head.

He quickly tried to think of something different, than he had to remain clear and objective. Besides, he couldn't blush in that house. No, such things were dirty, and his friend the doctor would never ask for anything like that. This man wasn't anything like Viktor Trevor. He swallowed, because he never wanted to waste any thought on the disgusting guy again.

"Oh, you think so. He isn't a saint. Is he a Christian at all? I haven't yet found a cross here in the room and this is definitely a room for emergencies." His other half wasn't quite wrong, and there was hope in him. Perhaps the doctor wouldn't want to demonize him so badly if he gave out his feelings before the farewell. Probably he would make a backstop at the last moment.

A priest once came home to them because of business. But the truth was that their mother wanted to introduce them to her religion. They were playing the game in front of their family, but they always left the crosses at home when they secretly sneak out in the night. Since their mother died, the two chains hung in their room at the clothes rack.

Sherlock found it not bad to believe in anything but he had read the Bible and most of the churchmen doesn't even follow this book. Sometimes he wondered if their mother also ordered the priest because she knew that they were both too much interested in the male sex than in the female. He always tried to hide it. His brother, on the other hand, doesn't really take a step back. But he couldn't help it. At least Sherrinford tried to enjoy this life somehow.

Although the people in the neighborhood looked at them as odd, their parents had been trying to bring them into the company since their childhood. So there were occasional celebrations in their house. Both of them were then free to decide whether to show themselves or not. Since their father was very influential, there was always a lot of important people who wanted get something from the cake.

A face suddenly appeared in front of his inner eye and he pulled at his curls. At last he was allowed to do so without being exhorted. Their parents, as well as Mycroft weren't liking it when they did this.

"Forget this idiot. But where is our doctor?" His brother wanted to distract the subject, but he was quite right. Getting bad memories back to the surface doesn't seem to be the best idea. Not that he wants to remember some things at all. Unfortunately, there were times that were so incisive that they couldn't be forgotten.

"Probably he still has to work or explain to his wife why we are here. I hope he doesn't argue about us with her." Then he got a slight smile from the other, which also seemed a bit dark. He could also be wrong with the light. It had to be late in the afternoon, because the sun slowly moved towards the horizon.

"You don't need to worry about her." Sherlock quickly looked away from the window to look at his brother again.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean Mrs. Watson isn't here in the house and hasn't been here for a long time. Sooner or later, we will find out where the good housewife went." This was said like it should please him that the woman had disappeared. Of course their short stay would be easier to bear if they don't meet Mrs. Watson, than they weren't exactly popular with her. Nevertheless, he will not begin to rejoice with enthusiasm here, than the wife is certainly not happy with the doctor. But now he could only wait until the landlord finally entered this room here, so that the matter can be cleared up.

"Don't look always so negative. We are here and still live. I hope you've learned your lesson with your arm."

"Be quiet! You can feel the pain too."

"Yes, but imagine the cut bigger and deeper. That could hurt even more, and I will not be there any more to pity you." Sherlock looked at the blanket with which their abdomen was covered up to their feet.

"What makes you so sure I would have survived the operation?"

"You saw a meaning in it." His brother was against this thing. But that doesn't mean that he had to die. Or had Sherrinford just hoped that, when he finally gave his consent to this procedure?

Well, it doesn't matter anymore. Because he will never again visit a hospital with his brother for this reason. If they had to continue to live like this, then it should at least be together. So none of them would die alone.

"That's the right attitude. But you should have such a great idea again, I'll take the next thing I can grasp and hit you in the face with it." Sherlock thought that he would probably deserve this.

Again, he looked out of the window and noticed now that he was very long unconscious, because this operation took place in the evening and now it went back to this too.

"The doctor thought you wouldn't wake up. Then he should have cut off your head, because I don't want to run around with that." He rolled his eyes at the humor of his brother. At first he doesn't want them to separate at all and now he told such silly stories. Then the other man laughed a little.

"I'm sure the good Dr. Watson would certainly have a free jar for you." Sometimes Sherrinford was really puzzling because he always thought he liked the doctor a bit too. Not in the way he did, but at least as a friend or good acquaintance. Now that he heard these sentences with a strange undertone, he was no longer so sure.

But it seemed too late to talk about it, than there were footsteps outside of the door. That means the doctor's would enter at any moment. He knew that it could only be the landlord, even if he never heard him stepping up here. After all that was their first stay at Doctor Watson's home.

Why did he get nervous when he knew the reason why they were here? They were only here because it was an emergency.

Then the memory of the operating room grabbed him and he saw again Sebastian Moran in front of his inner eye.

"I don't think you'll see him again. Because of.." But then the door opened to the room and the owner of the house came in with a tray.

"At last you are awake." The elderly came delightedly to his side of the bed. The furniture was almost in the middle of the room, which made the whole thing a bit easier. The tray with tea and water was placed next to him on a small cabinet.

"I'll make more light." The doctor continued, as he looked at him once. He found this a bit uncomfortable, because normally the man never had much to worry about him. His twin brother broke his arm and leg in the last few years. But he was more likely to suffer from slight scratches and bruises. Both of them were also grateful to the doctor for not having always confessed everything to their parents or Mycroft. They don't realize that until much later, when there wasn't any trouble for some things, but they were grown up and wanted to live it out.

When it grew brighter in the room, Sherlock saw some scratches on the wooden floor. These led exactly to the bed. So this was moved around a short time ago.

"Yes, the good doctor will move his furniture and ruin his floor because of us." Sherrinford said, yawning as if it were boring.

"I can bring you something to read as soon as I have finished with your brother." Explained the older one and sat down close to his arm on a stool. Then he sighed and pulled the blanket away, while Sherlock wondered why they were half-naked. But for shame was probably not the right time.

New bandage was taken from the cabinet beside him. Just as it looked, there were other things to from the doctor, but for curiosity wasn't the time either with the look he got.

"I'm a little disappointed with you." After the bandage was gone from his wound, it still looked as bad as yesterday. He couldn't even look long. To bear with the pain was also one thing, but he couldn't begin to whine in front of Dr. John Watson. The feeling that he had disappointed this man, he also found not exactly exhilarating. On the other hand, this man was never in their shoes.

"He thinks you have no idea what you're talking about. After all, you have no ulcer on your shoulders." Horrified, he looked back at his brother, even if his arm wasn't exactly thankful for this jerky movement.

"I never said that!" He croaked a little. His neck was dry. But the man next to him was immediately there with a glass full of water, which he had previously brought with him.

"No, but you thought it sometimes." That was true, because if he couldn't sleep at night, he was always thinking about what would one day become. And yes, it was not uncommon for him to condemn his twin brother, if this behaved stupid in his eyes again. Normally, he thought the other was always asleep deeply.

He turned his eyes back to the blanket, which lay over their legs. Of course, each person had his own head and if he wanted, he could keep his thoughts to himself.

"Now calm down again. Sherlock, I want you to promise me that you will never bring your brother back into such a situation. Suppose one of you had survived this operation. He would have to visit a doctor all his life and... Oh." When the man next to him abruptly broke off his speech, he saw to his brother again. This was mostly to blame when people around them did not finish their sentences.

"Can it be that you've been hoping you'll be able to visit me?" This was directed back at him, but he couldn't even hide his face behind his hand as his cheeks blushed. Now it would be better for him if death had taken them from the table.

"Now don't exaggerate. Of course, I thought he would survive." The last sentence went to the doctor, but he swallowed it all down and should finally say something about it too.

"Yes, I wanted the operation to lead a simpler life. Because finding a job in this state isn't exactly the easiest." That might have been a bit harsh, but he couldn't help it.

"What do you need a job for now? I tried to reach your brother, but I only received the message he had died two months ago. Why didn't you mention that on my last visit?" Now Sherrinford glanced at the blanket.

"It wasn't our intention to conceal it. But we did not want to burden you with it." He tried to explain. Then the doctor looked rather silently around the rest of the wound on his arm before he got up again.

"Drink the tea before it gets cold." First, Sherlock thought it would be unpleasant again because he had to ask the man beside him to lift his cup. A faint laugh followed from his other half. This then got the drink in his hand, while his mouth was gently extended. Still, he found it unfamiliar that the doctor's eyes were so fixed on him. But at the moment they were only patients. Since he never saw the doctor with other people who this treated, he doesn't know what it looked like.

"Fine? Or is the tea still too hot?" His opposite had beautiful eyes.

"Dr. Watson, don't stare at my brother for too long, he'll get lost in your sight." And then he spat some tea on the upper body. He was just thinking that the embarrassing situations had been overcome, but his brother had already put him in the next. After that, the wet spots on the skin were gently blotted off by the older man. One last time the doctor looked at his arm, before he left the room without further words. Sherlock stared angrily at the other.

"Both of you are so sensitive."

"I don't care if you do such jokes with me. But stop being annoying to Dr. Watson. The man has certainly enough to do with us." He announced a little angry, thinking that they would probably be left alone again. But it wasn't long before the disappeared came back with something to eat.

"It's just chickens soup. Because you should take something easy." Then the doctor probably doesn't know how to continue.

"Put the tray here. I can eat alone. My arm wasn't sawn." Sherrinford explained a little harshly and pointed to their legs. Before the older one tied a loop, so that the injured arm was loaded as little as possible.

For his brother, it was perhaps always great to be fed, but for Sherlock it seemed foolish. But somehow the situation was his own fault. He tried to distract himself by thinking about from where the doctor had the wound in his face. Maybe a fight? And if so, with whom?

"That was Mary, if you absolutely need to know." The man at his side suddenly told him all by himself and her eyes found the others again. Unfortunately, he did not dare to look for long.

"I didn't want to.." He was quickly interrupted.

"No, I'm sorry. I really shouldn't only be angry with you." He was a little confused and so he waited for more information.

"I quarreled with my wife because I was fed up with the lies." Sherlock immediately looked at his brother.  
"Why didn't you two tell me about it before? I.."

"No. I couldn't do it. She is your wife and you love her. I'm sure you can get the problems out.."

"Sherlock, your brother has always been writing letters to me since the year when I was with you two for the first time. At first, I thought he was doing this just to tease you or to have fun with me, but by the time I saw everything with different eyes. I saw you with different eyes." How could Sherrinford do that? Than he suddenly knew what was on these notes. Probably all his thoughts about Dr. Watson.

"Look at me." His cheek was carefully touched. He wanted to turn away, but the facial expression of the other made him look at him as if it were spellbound.

"Do you think I would never have come back to you if you had told me the truth about my wife? You're so clever and I know you're good at looking through people."

"He doesn't want to break your heart and destroy the image of the perfect wife." His twin brother now interfered. The doctor withdrew his hand and clenched his fists slightly.

"I spoke to her a few days ago. At first she doesn't want to admit anything, but then the veil dissolved and she showed her true face. For no reason, she suddenly talked about you two and also confessed to me with pleasure that she helped someone out of prison. Yes, the guy who nearly killed you. Then I lost a little patience and beat her. She gave the same back to me and then disappeared. I don't care, because from that moment on, I only had you in my head. How you lie on a table and a charlatan is sawing you."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Watson. Sherrinford, I should apologize to you too." If there is no way after all, why not enjoy life as it was, Sherlock thought.

As he looked at the fabric of the blanket, his head was raised again. Smiling, the doctor looked at him and came closer and closer to him. Only when their lips touched, he realized what was happening here. Quickly he tried to pull his head back.

"What?" That was all that came out of his mouth.

"If you're worried about my wife, I'll be divorced as soon as she shows up again." The older one told a little awkwardly because this reaction made him nervous. Sherrinford, on the other hand, began to laugh.

"You didn't tell him?" There was a little annoyance from the doctor. Again, he felt a hand on his cheek and he calmed down again. He doesn't know such a touch and it was kind of nice.

"Sherlock, I feel the same for you." The other man never looked shy. But otherwise he couldn't interpret these facial features. He probably doesn't look much better, with his disbelieving gaze and the red cheeks. The moment could have been so wonderful, but of course his other half had to intervene again.

"Be gentle with him, Dr. Watson. You see that my brother is hurt." This was expressed with a special undertone and a grin that made Sherlock even more embarrassed. As if the doctor had such dirty things in mind. This stood up and cleared his throat a little.

"From now on, John is fine." He winked, he thought he had misheard things. His arm still showed him that this was the reality here.

"Since only Sherlock's shoulder is scratched, we can soon go."

"Actually, I thought you'd stay here a bit longer, until that is settled with your living situation. I'm really sorry for your older brother and I don't want to sound like a guard, but you can't stay alone in your house after this assassination." He looked pleading at his twin brother, than he doesn't want to force him to stay here.

"Well, that's fine too. But we should still go to our house every now and then to look if everything is alright." Inwardly, he thanked his other half, although he knew that they wouldn't get bored with the doctor. At home they would be alone and would only have other stupid thoughts.

Sherlock still couldn't quite believe what had just happened. Dr. Watson said that he had feelings for him. Whether this was the truth, he had enough time to figure it out. There are other things going on, too, than Mrs. Watson will not give up her husband so easily. He wouldn't be afraid, than they weren't alone now.


End file.
